


The Home Run

by lizook12



Series: Got a Ball Cap On [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 23:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1244689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your hat?”  <br/>“It’s... I must have left it in the car...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Home Run

**Author's Note:**

> I had absolutely zero intention of finishing this series today, but then last night happened and these beautiful idiots wouldn't leave my brain so... there you have it... I hope you've all enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed planning & writing it. 
> 
> Again, see part one for title disclaimers.

“Hey, Elle, Grace...” She squeezes past the ladies at the end of their row, waving and promising to visit before the end of the game.

He follows close behind her, almost running into her back as she stops at their seats.

“Watch where you’re going.”

“Oh, I was watching...” He moves to place his hand on the small of her back, but quickly realizes his arms are full. A look of irritation flits across his face only to be replaced by one of determination as he closes the small space between them and kisses her temple. “Hey, where’s...”

“Hmm?” She’s halfway into her seat, eyes trained on the field, watching the players warm up as he hands her her sandwich, sets her cup of fries in the holder of the seat between them.

“Your hat?”

“It’s... Shit, I must have left it in the car...”

“I’ll go out and get it; you don’t need to be squint—”

“No, I’ll just run up to the clubhouse.” Standing, she sets her food on her seat. “It won’t take me that long.”

“Are you sure? You’ll miss the anthem and—”

“Positive.” Leaning down, she cups his face, kisses him quickly. “You’re the one that’s not allowed to leave our seats once we get here anyhow.”

“It’s superstition!”

“I know.” She grins, thumb stroking over his jaw. “I’ll be right back.”

“Ok.” His mouth turns up as he catches her falling hand and gives it a squeeze. “Hurry back.”

The pre-game activities and his dinner keep him occupied for the next fifteen minutes, but once he settles back into his seat to watch the first inning things feel off.

Weird.

Borderline unsettling.

It’s just... odd... not having her cheering next to him, teasing him that he has a bigger crush on their star second baseman than she does.

He tries to distract himself by scoring the game in the program, but it’s hard to juggle a pencil and the remainder of his sandwich and...

Really, what the hell could be taking so long?

Inhaling slowly, he grabs a handful of her fries—no use in them getting cold—as Eifert hits a booming shot to left and—

“Sorry, it took so long.” She pushes past the end of their row, bag clutched in hand, cheeks flushed.

“What... how...”

“Jake knows us; he let me sneak down even though there was someone at bat.”

“Just as long as there wasn’t any bribing involved.”

“Afraid of the headlines?”

“No, I know someone who could take care of those easily enough.” He grins as she settles next to him, bag pooled in her lap, jaw set just so as she studies the scoreboard. He’s pretty sure they just scored, but it doesn’t even matter right now. “It's... I like the anonymity we have here and...”

“Yeah, I know.” She tips her head towards him, trying to make out the few notes he did manage to make on the score card. “I guess I didn’t miss too much; the line was longer than I anticipated.”

“You think by now we’d have learned to go towards the end of the game.”

“A hat wouldn’t be much use to me then.” Smirking, she leans forward and snatches her fries from the holder. “Were you eating these?”

"Only a couple.” He turns, yelling at the right fielder before snatching the bag from her lap. “What’d you get? Throwback? One of the new on-field ones?”

He begins rifling through the mostly empty bag and for a torturous minute it seems like he’s never actually going to find it, but finally— _finally_ —he lifts out a tiny hat, the brim barely larger than the palm of his hand.

“‘Licity, this isn’t going to fit yo—” His breath hitches and he turns to find her grinning at him, eyes bright even as they squint in the glare of the sinking sun. “Oh... oh...”

His hand tightens on the little hat and then he’s pushing himself over the armrest, practically sitting in her seat as he kisses her and kisses her, hand tangling in her hair as the fries are crushed between them.

“We’re? You're?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs, lips brushing over her jaw as he rights himself in his seat, body still pressed up against the divider between them in attempts to be as close as possible.

Stealing one last kiss, he takes his hat off and gently puts it on her head, fingers trying to smooth the mess he’s just made of her hair. “Where’s next year’s schedule; we might need to get one of those stocking caps for little one’s first game...”


End file.
